


Autumn Kisses

by RavenGrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: College AU, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock refuses to shut up so John silences him in a more creative way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicbubblepipe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/gifts).



> Poots. I am so bad at summaries.

 

            A biting breeze nips at John’s nose and raises chill bumps on Sherlock’s skin, rustling the dead leaves that are scattered around their feet. Sherlock has been jabbering on since the moment they’d stepped outside, not even stuttering when the unforgiving wind had whipped at his skin. The git had forgotten to grab his coat and was shivering lightly, deducing people as they passed by under his breath for John’s amusement. John had finished his classes for the day and Sherlock had opted to skip his very last, under the pre-tense that his professor was a blithering idiot.

            John was only half listening to Sherlock, enjoying the few rays of sun that had peeked out and the delightfully cold air that filled his lungs. He snorted at a particularly ridiculous deduction and gave Sherlock a disbelieving look. “No,” he protested laughingly, giving the male in question a wild look “He’s on the school’s rugby team, there’s _no_ way he wears girls pants.” John says firmly, a wide smile pulling at his lips and a laugh bubbling in his chest despite himself.

            Sherlock’s eyes light with amusement and he gives John a small smile, enjoying the warm sound of John’s laughter. “ _Yes_ ,” Sherlock replies snarkily “notice the way he walks and the lack of a distinguishable underwear outline.” Sherlock gives John a teasingly superior look while John tries to discreetly access his fellow team-mate. “And note the particularly smarmy look on his face; of course he’s wearing ladies underthings.” John chokes on surprised laughter and it’s a few minutes before he can collect himself.

            When he does Sherlock goes right back to deducing strangers and John resolutely doesn’t look at Michel Mayers. They walk for a few minutes; John largely trying to enjoy the quiet and Sherlock keeping up a steady stream of deductions. John doesn’t think about it, just knows he wants Sherlock to shut up, so he does it.

            He grabs Sherlock by the front of his ridiculously tight shirt and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Sherlock’s lips are warm and soft beneath his own slightly chapped lips, gone slack with surprise and perfect for kissing. John’s palms slide flat against Sherlock’s chest, his mouth moving slowly over Sherlock’s. His eyes slide closed and he forces himself not to think about what he’s just done, just enjoys the heat against his palms and the warmth of Sherlock’s mouth.

            Sherlock eyes are wide with surprise, words caught on the tip of his tongue and his hands held loosely at his sides. A shudder courses the length of his spine, due partially to the cold and more likely due to John’s incredible heat. Even distanced as he is, John blazes with warmth and Sherlock finds himself wanting to press himself closer.

            So he does, arms going around John’s shoulder while he plasters himself against John’s chest. John gives a surprised grunt, eyes fluttering open briefly before closing once more as Sherlock kisses him back almost aggressively. John calmly maneuvers the both of them behind a nearby tree. He allows himself to be pressed against it, Sherlock’s lips hungry against his own and his hands scrabble over the curves of John’s shoulder blades. John slips one hand down around Sherlock’s waist, the other wrapping around the back of his neck. John moves his mouth against Sherlock’s in a purposefully slow way, gentling the frantic kiss easily.

            Sherlock’s teeth find John’s bottom lip and John’s breath stutters a bit when Sherlock pulls at it. John responds by teasing his tongue over the seam of Sherlock’s mouth, his fingers toying with the short curls at the back of his neck. John opens his eyes and smiles lazily at Sherlock, his fingers stroking any skin he can reach easily. His smile takes on a wicked edge and he sinks down so he’s sitting, pulling Sherlock with him abruptly.

            Sherlock looses a strangled sound and John smiles smugly, pulling Sherlock’s head down so he can claim his lips again. Sherlock gives an unwillingly amused huff and, with a wicked smile of his own, settles himself firmly in John’s lap. John groans quietly, delightfully surprised with the turn of events. Sherlock skin is chilled and John frowns just a little, rubbing a hand down his arm. “You’re freezing!” Sherlock leans back, a dangerous look leveled John’s way before he replies silkily “ _Perhaps you should warm me up_.” The words are whispered into John’s ear, his breath hot against it.

            Arousal spikes in his belly and John quickly shoulders of his jacket, wrapping it neatly around Sherlock’s slender shoulders before taking hold of his hips, his thumbs brushing over the grooves almost casually. “Perhaps I should.” John agrees softly, warmth rising beneath his skin. John reclaims Sherlock’s mouth, smothering anything the man might have had to say. The next time they part Sherlock’s lips are full and swollen, his chest heaving against John’s. John’s fingers slide along the top of Sherlock’s trousers, thumbing at the button of Sherlock’s trousers when he reaches it.

            Sherlock moans at that, an eager buck of his hips pressing the line of his cock against John’s hand. John’s heart is pounding loudly in his ears, his own ragged breaths mingling with Sherlock’s while he quickly undoes Sherlock’s pants and takes Sherlock in hand. Sherlock grinds hard into John’s grip, his own hands moving to free John from the confines of his trousers.

            John gasps loudly, a hoarse groan pulled from his throat when Sherlock’s surprisingly cold fingers wrap around him, his grip tight. His head falls back against the tree and his hand falters on Sherlock, his gasped pants muffled against Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock’s eyes alight on John’s skin with a fevered intensity, his grip on John’s cock unforgiving and his strokes quick and messy.

           Feeling the need to up the anti, John pulls his hand away from Sherlock, a displeased growl escaping him, to lick a stripe up the center of his palm. Sherlock’s eyes slam closed when John’s hand closes around, hot and slick. Every muscle in his body tenses, mouth going slack as he comes rather spectacularly over John’s fingers.

           John pumps Sherlock through his orgasm, his own rising quick and hard due to Sherlock’s almost brutal strokes. Cum slicks Sherlock’s fingers, making Sherlock’s fingers slide easier over him while he clings to Sherlock with almost bruising strength. When they come down, spent and happily tired, Sherlock presses his forehead to John’s and mutters sleepily “A job well done, John.” John huffs out a breathless laugh, nuzzling in closer to Sherlock. “I try.” John mumbles back sarcastically, a nonsensical smile on face.


End file.
